Star Fox Armada
by HyperLines
Summary: With a galaxy left ravaged by the Aparoid Invasion, Laylat has found itself in an unprecedented state of disarray. Seeking to capitalize the system's weakened state, a new adversary steps forward bringing on a second-wave of terrorism. Without the support of the Cornerian government, will the Star Fox Team be able to thwart this latest regime against Laylat?
1. Chapter 1

**-Chapter One-**

It started in stillness. Stars sat, like delicate grains of sand, amidst the colorless galaxy. It was a space that seemed to operate outside the hands of time. A space in which, the universe hung in the perpetual state of balance it had always known; every cause had an effect and every action a reaction. It was a pendulum, swinging one way only to return to the exact position it had begun in. A clock that would never ring, shrouded in indefinite silence as the many ticks of the macrocosm fired on, maintaining equilibrium.

And then, it was gone.

A flash seared the sky's surface. The tendons of the Apariod's planet stretched at a molecular level, far beyond their normal limits until finally ripping apart. Seconds later, a dismantling quake ruptured through to the surface shattering the planet as if it were a frail wine glass. All the cries let out by the homeworld, as it crumbled, were lost to a destitute vacuum. As is the way of the universe, it didn't take long for the balance to float back to normal. And, once again, the clock had reset itself.

The planet, a few moments ago, was a bastion to the Aparoids. The home of creatures who called for the extermination of all life was now a stilled graveyard. A claustrophobic sea of debris now filled the ambient space where it had once sat. The remints of the forlorn race now hung, inert, slowly churning in zero gravity. Meer miles away from the epicenter of the planet's wreckage sat five ships which, while motionless, were anything but inert.

They were survivors. Despite everything that had been thrown at them, every obstacle, every enemy, they had made it out alive. Mission accomplished. By once again surmounting the impossible the Star Fox team found themselves in a small moment of respite. And so, for the first time since the mission had begun, could once again rest easy.

"Fhew!" Slippy's voice rang out across all four of the communication lines. "I can't believe we're all still flying! Or alive."

"You said it, Slippy," chimed Falco from his ship. "Those aparoids are apa-destroyed!"

"Oh, Falco," Peppy added half-heartedly from the Great Fox. "Your ability to turn-a-phrase was what I was going to miss the most about you."

"Awe, and here I thought it was my winning personality." The avian pilot cackled to himself. "I do gotta say, though. That was a pretty tight maneuver you pulled back there. Didn't think you still had it in you, _Gramps_."

"You listen here now! I've had it _in me_ since you were just a fledgling."

"That's right, Falco," Krystal's words carried a playful contempt. "Better not make him mad or next time it won't be a shield barrier he drops the ship on."

"Yeah, Falco!" sneered Slippy.

Their leader, Fox McCloud, shook his head, half amused with the banter now playing over the comms. It was warming to see all his friends together again. He let go of the controls of his ship as it idled in place. His hands were still stiff with the tension brought on by the past hours of fighting. He laid back in his seat and looked around at all the chunks of metal slowly drifting off in the distance. After a brief sigh of relief, Fox turned his head toward the Great Fox. The team's flagship had sustained a serious amount of damage during the fight. It was nothing short of a miracle that it was still flying. Dwelling on this, however, brought Fox's mind to a different place.

"Say, Peppy. What's the status on the Cornerian Fleet that came with us? I'm not seeing any of them here."

The rabbit took a long pause before answering. "Fox, I'm sorry, but none of the other ships survived the retreat. What you're looking at… well, we're all that's left."

"That means Wolf's team too… Peppy, I'm sorry."

"Fox, they all knew what they signed up for. And just look at what we've accomplished. Their deaths weren't in vain."

The vulpine nodded his head semi-reassuringly. Even if what Peppy said was true, that was still a lot of people who died in the line of duty. Thousands of Cornerian soldiers he never knew or met were now gone. Not to mention, there were the lives the of three pilots of Star Wolf who had unconditionally aided them throughout the aparoid invasion, for the most part at least. Fox couldn't help but think if he had destroyed the queen sooner things would have turned out differently. A voice suddenly caught his attention causing him to lift his head up.

"Hold on a second," Krystal began, "If they're gone then that poses quite the problem, doesn't it?"

"Yeah right," Falco scoffed "Since when has Wolf's team being iced caused us any problems?"

"No, not them, I meant the fleet. You said none of them survived."

The vixen's comment struck the other four with incredible weight. They all knew exactly where she was going when she said that. Originally, when the team had traveled through the Zypher Ring's wormhole they had been backed by five Cornerian dreadnaughts all of which had a special communication rigs that allowed for a point-to-point communication with the Orbital Gate. This allowed the researchers stationed there to effectively close off the wormhole from aparoid use. Once the fighting had subsided, any one of the five ships could then radio the gate and tell them to reopen it. Now, however, seeing as none of the five ships survived the assault, made this option no longer viable.

"Slippy," Fox called.

"Huh?"

"We need to contact the Orbital Gate. Your dads still stationed there, right? You must know what communication frequency they're using."

The engineer shrugged blankly. "Well, yeah but that wouldn't really help. The arwing's don't have the strength to broadcast a signal that far."

"But, surely the Great Fox can manage something." Krystal reasoned.

Peppy thought about it briefly from his spot on the ship. "Well, normally, The Great Fox boosts its signal through Laylat's comm buoy network. But chances are we're outside the range of those."

"And even if we were, and with all the destruction going on people will be making a lot of calls." Slippy added, "The bandwidth on those servers is probably occupied. Without military-priority, we'd experience some major latency."

"Would you cut the technobabble?" called Falco. "So, if we can't call them, how we supposed to get out of this dump, Slippy!?"

"Well, I mean maybe we won't have to. People will notice that the aparoids are shutting down… at least in the places we didn't clear out. And then they will reopen the wormhole, right?" Slippy asked unreassuringly.

"And what if they don't, Froggy? You expect us to just sit here like a couple of morons?"

"It might not sound proactive but it's an option, right? Or… well… I guess we could always try to travel to the nearest civilized planet. But who knows how long that could take?"

Fox took a moment to reconsider their predicament. It was like being marooned in the open ocean without any way to call for help. Except, here the stakes were higher. Every second they spent out here was precious. He knew Arwing's weren't built to maintain flight indefinitely. It would only be a matter of time before some technical malfunction caused one of them to breakdown. On the topic of malfunctions, the Great Fox had been stripped of all its thrusters and had no feasible way to move. With so much to focus on, it was better to start slow and gather information first.

"ROB, locate the nearest civilized planet." He ordered.

The robotic companion beside Peppy spring to life, imputing a series commands on the console that was nearest to him. Its mechanical appendages rhythmically tapped across the keys as the main display flickered to life. On the interface before them, a 3D model of the galaxy came into view. The image flickered in a semi-damaged state as the computer struggled to render an accurate approach vector.

Peppy adjusted his glasses as he tried to make out the waving image on the monitor. "Fox, I think ROB's voice-box is malfunctioning." Peppy called out over the communication channel, "The closest habitable planet is… Katina. Looks to be about, 6.8 parsecs away."

"7 parsecs, really? I'll just put my ship on auto, flip on a movie and will be there in no time." Falco laughed.

"This isn't like flying in the Great Fox, Falco," Slippy scolded. "Given the Arwing's thrust that would put us at… Mach 4.2…and then you have to convert it." The frog racked his brain trying to make sure he had done the math correctly. A cold realization overtook him when he finished the equation. "Um yeah, guys. That would be a-a seventeen-day flight."

The avian pilot grimaced in light of this new information. "In that case, someone better have brought _a lot_ of movies with them."

[End of Chapter]


	2. Chapter 2

**-Chapter Two-**

In space, there really isn't a problem bringing oxygen with you. In fact, you can get quite a bit of it if it's stored in a liquid state. All you would need would be a mechanism to adjust the pressure and temperature of the storage vessel. Some, more modern, systems will make use of an oxygenator which utilizes electrolysis to combine water with electricity to reclaim oxygen and hydrogen to be stored for later. Of course, what is contained within the tanks is not pure oxygen but rather a breathable cocktail of nitrogen, oxygen, and trace amounts of argon. However, in breathing this mixture in we, in turn, create a redundant supply of CO2. This makes the amount of CO2 you can remove the only real limiting factor in a life support system. A common solution to this problem is the implementation of a water supply that utilizes residual hydrogen gas from the oxygenator with carbon monoxide to create drinkable water. In a way, the creation of water prevents the buildup of CO2.

However, this process requires large heating units in order to run. As such, these devices are only used in carrier-level and above spacecraft's. A solution for small ships, like the arwings, is to make use of a simple filtration system. As the pilot exhales the CO2 is filtered out leaving the pilot with clean air. After a while of use though, the filters get too full of CO2 and must be either replaced or purged. The latter of which can be completed, once aboard a carrier-level craft, like the Great Fox.

This, however, was impossible for the Star Fox Team given that the docking bay, carbon scrubbers, and many other parts of the Great Fox, were currently floating among what was left of the Aparoid Homeworld. Effectively stranding the Star Fox team in the deepest reaches of the cosmos.

"Slippy!" Fox called, "stay focused." He could hear a series of whimpers from his friend as he tried to calm himself. "Tell me, if we leave for Katina, would we have enough fuel to make the trip? Will the arwing's life support systems holdout that long?"

"…Fuel. Fuel should be fine, the plasma reclaimers. They-they'll get us there" The frog choked on the words as they left his mouth. He was still taken aback by his calculations. "Our life supports… the filters…I can't tell without knowing the lifespans of our current ones."

"Wait," Krystal said. "Our filters aren't all at the same level?"

"No, not necessarily. Some of us have been in the air longer and therefore our filters have been used up more of their and… _our_ lifespan." He concluded grimly.

"So, let's quit wasting our time talking about it and go through rollcall." Falco waved a fathered hand through the arwing's screens until he reached the system maintenance tab. "I'm rolling with a cool 91 percent left."

"I'm fine, 98 percent integrity, barley anything," Krystal answered.

Fox scrolled down the maintenance tab until he stared at his own meter. At that particular moment, he watched as the numbers on his gauge dropped. "I just hit 97. Slippy, what's yours say?"

"I-I'm at… 87 percent."

"So, we're all good, right?" Falco said. "That's only like ten percent down."

The other three teammates remained silent, awaiting Slippy's prognosis.

Slippy removed his hat from his head and held it tightly in his hands. Like a child holding a teddy bear, he pressed it closed to his chest for emotional support. He was trying his best to be strong here. "I-It's not great. Not horrible, but not great."

The avian pilot slammed a hand down on the display in front of him. "The heck is that supposed to mean!? Slippy! You and me were in our planes for the same amount of time! How is that even—"

"Time is of the essence, Falco," Peppy scolded in a stoic tone. "If we got moving right now would you be able to make it, Slippy?"

"Normally, the systems should last for a total of 480 hours… twenty days. At 4.8 hours per percentage, I have about 417 hours left in my tank. That's enough for 17 days and six hours of flight."

Krystal tried for a hopeful tone. "Slippy, that's still six hours more then you need."

Slippy shook his head. "4.8 hours per percentage isn't a very accurate measurement. I could be anywhere from 417 to 413 hours left without the display changing. Plus, there are way more variables I haven't accounted for: personal oxygen consumption, obstacles in our approach, even low-level gravitational pull."

The whole team hung in a semi-circle of ships all facing inward. Each crew member morosely pained at the implications this new information had left. There was a decision to make and what felt like the obvious choice was now offset by a sole fact. A fact the Slippy's voice now echoed through the comms.

"If we decide to leave here… it might not end well for me."

"But if we stay," Peppy added, "wait for Cornria to send a recon unit through the wormhole. Your chances improve, greatly."

"But, the cost being that you're now risking all five of our lives," Krystal concluded factually.

Falco rested a feathered hand on his chin. "Huh, _five_? Who says we all gotta stay? Just leave him here while we fly off?"

"We're a team, Falco," Fox answered mundanely. "I'm not about to leave Slippy stranded alone in uncharted space."

"Yeah, _you're_ not. I, however, am perfectly fine doing so. Don't know if you realized this, Foxy but I'm next up on choppin' block." The bird watched intently to ensure that his ninety-one percent was not about to go down anytime soon.

"You won't get far. Peppy's the only one with the map to Katina. If you leave now, you're on your own."

"I… um I-I didn't think of it like that. Alright, yeah! So, what's the plan, team?"

"Gosh, you are such a turncoat," sighed Krystal.

Fox looked around at the semicircle of ships. He met all the concerned faces of his teammates. So much was riding on a single decision and he knew it was not his to make alone.

"Well, seeing as how this affects all of us. I want to hear from everyone. So, we'll put it to a vote."

The avian pilot nodded in agreement. "Good thing there's five of us. Majority takes it."

"Exactly, so which is it, team? Do we stay or do we go?"

The channel went dead for what felt like hours. No one in the circle of ships had dared to speak-up yet. Some remind silent out discomfort and others out the frightful implication of their decision. At the same time, however, all of them knew someone would have to speak before this decision would be made for them. Eventually, it was Krystal who made the first move.

"We stay." She said confidently. "No question. We had faith in the Cornerian scientists when we used their self-destruct program, we should have faith in them now."

"Yeah," Falco began slowly. "Cornerian scientists don't exactly have the best track record in my opinion."

"Since when?" she scoffed.

"Since Andross. Just listen, it's better if we leave now. There's way less at risk." The avian pilot's eyes shifted to the ship outside his left-most window. "Sorry, Slippy."

"Falco," Slippy answered in a warm voice "it's okay… I-I'm not about to ask you guys to d-die for me." He took when final deep breath and reoutfitted himself with the hat he had been clutching. "I'm not stupid. We leave. It's still the best choice."

"Maybe not _the best_ choice." Peppy interjected. "There's something we have yet t' think about. The Great Fox is still dead in the water. If we can't find a way to get it running then we'll all be stuck here anyways. Which makes staying our only choice. Well, makes it _my_ only choice that is."

"Great, two versus two," Falco bellowed sarcastically.

Krystal looked to the ship position to the right of hers. "So, Fox? What do you say?"

The vulpine took a moment to think this over. So much was riding on a single decision. One that might end up compromising the lives of his entire crew. He hadn't even considered the Great Fox. Life support or not, there was no way to find the parts necessary to fix it. If only there was some way, they could get it moving again.

And that's when Fox felt his reasoning snap, thoughts clicking together like the latch of a brief case. In that brief moment, it all made sense to him. He knew where to cast his vote.

"Everyone, just think on what we've done today. Together, we've seen enough battles for two lifetimes. And we're only able to say that because we've gotten this far together, as a team. Which is why I have a plan but it will need all of us cooperating to work. I won't lie, it's a long shot. But, if it works, we'll all be able to leave this place."

"Awe yeah! He's gotta plan!" Falco chimed in, "I don't know about the rest of you guys, but I just shot down an entire _species_ back there. I'll be damned if I'm gonna go out like this! Let's get it done, people!"

"Alright, I'm with you all the way, Fox." Krystal said, "Just tell me what I can do to help."

Peppy reclined back in his chair on-board The Great Fox. A wide smile spread across his face. He gazed upward at the ceiling and mumbled such that his microphone wouldn't pick his words, "James, I hope you were watching that."

"Wait, Fox. I'm a little confused." Slippy began. "This plan, are you saying we should stay or go?"

"Actually, both."

[End of Chapter]

 **A/N: AND BOOM! There's chapter two done. I'd love to hear from some of my readers out there (you guys are like half the reason I write). How are you guys are liking my take on the Star Fox universe/characters? This series is very near and dear to me and I really want to do it justice! That being said, thank you all so much for reading and as always, STAY HYPED!**


	3. Chapter 3

- **Chapter Three-**

There were many things in life that Falco enjoyed. Dangerous interplanetary battles, for one, where his skills as the team's ace pilot shined the most. Seeing Fox totally lose it when he beat him at his favorite video game. A classy little bar with stiff drinks and loose women. One thing, however, he did not like was taking orders from Slippy. Which, was the exact position he currently found himself in as he floated, in his spacesuit, behind The Great Fox.

"Okay, Froggy." He called through the suits microphone. "I've got the hose, now where do I hook it up at?" He waited for a moment listening to the static buzz of the comms before the frog's voice finally came through.

"Hey, stop calling me Froggy!" Slippy yelled into his headset. "You just have to move the hose to the right. There should still be an intake-valve there. It'll just snap into place."

"On it." He replied scanning across the backside of the Great Fox. Falco never really had any eye for technology or repairing said technology. Heck, he didn't even know how to change the oil in his own ship let alone know whatever the heck an "intake valve" looked like. He figured the only reason Fox had assigned him here was so he could get some one-on-one time with Krystal while they were off scavenging.

"No, no, Falco." Slippy's voice came through again. "To the right."

"What, like more?" He said scraping the hose rightwards across the metal hull. Hoping that it would just magically clip onto something.

"No, _the right_ ," Slippy said beginning to sound slightly annoyed.

"Yeah! I know! This way!" He answered still moving the hose to the right.

"Falco, which hand do you write with?"

"Oh my gosh! The same hand that I'm gonna use to stick this hose _right_ up your a—"

"W-Wa-Wait…" Slippy spat into the headset, watching Falco's progress from the Great Fox's monitors. "That's my bad. I meant left. These blueprints were drawn from a weird angle… or just upside down." He answered shuffling the papers he had scattered across the flagships tables as Falco's groans echoed from the speakers.

"Alright, so left. Like, as in, I really wish we'd a just _left_ you for dead."

"Hey, not funny!" He whined, kicking his own discarded spacesuit across the Great Fox's floor as he made his way over to ROB. Looking over the robot's shoulder, he quickly parsed program on the monitor for any erroneous lines of code. "I've got like four things I'm working on at the moment, I'm sorry." Suddenly, another voice came through on the speakers.

"Slippy, it's Fox. Krystal and I just finished our search of the Apariod Homeworld. We found all the pieces you listed from the debris."

"Really? Great work you two!" Slippy gave ROB a reassuring nod as he left the monitor and ran back across the room to his own computer. "I'm sending the blueprints to your arwing's computer. If you get stuck on something, let me know."

"Yeah, watch out you two," Falco jeered through the speakers. "Wouldn't be surprised if The Green Wonder here sent them to you in a different language."

Slippy chuckled at his friend's sarcastic tone. Even if it was at his own expense, it was nice to have someone to break the tension. He still couldn't believe Fox had come up with such an ingenious plan. All it needed was a little technical proofreading to work. Depending on how well Fox and Krystal's search of the wreckage had gone, they should be finished in no time. You know, if Falco ever figured out how to attach his ship's air hose to the Great Fox. Oh, and there was still the matter of Peppy's project. He walked over to the front end of the ship where he saw the rabbit situated in front of his own terminal.

"How's it coming, Peppy?" He called from across the room. "Find anything?"

"Well it's not much," said the rabbit, "But the Arwings and Great Fox are connected? I know, we can receive a constant stream of information from them but I'm not too sure about sending it."

"Yeah, but uploading and downloading information are relative terms. Because we know their main computers are still sending us stuff means they must be routed through a common network or directory. A simple search will tell us that much. That way ROB's program is sure to work, good job."

Peppy looked through the corner of his glasses. He was pretty sure he had understood about every other word in Slippy's speech. "Uh, thanks. Don't really feel like I did much."

Slippy keyed away at his terminal gleefully. There was some special feeling about seeing a project like this come together. Maybe partly because it would be the team's only means of escape but perhaps there was more to it. The idea of innovating off of drab concepts and creating something completely unique was a feeling that had always resonated with Slippy . The current model for the Arwings we're based off his design after all.

"Alright, that's the last of it!" Krystal called out. "The holding rig is constructed and welded in place!" She said looking at the metallic fin that now hung off the Great Fox's rear. The structure had been formed out the Appariod's own planet and resembled a large cross with a reflective chrome finish. Moments later, Fox piloted Slippy's ship into the left sprier of the cross, where he attached the Arwings' still functioning docking latch to the one on the holding rig. Stepping into his own suit, he floated on out of the ship and looked at the four points of the cross, each with a ship attached to it.

"Alright. All ships are docked." Fox called.

Falco was the next to report a few minutes later. "Ho! Suck on that intake-valve!"

"Literally," Slippy added as he ran a systems check back on his terminal. "Great work everyone, and Falco! You did it somehow. All that's left is to run the thruster's program and we'll be green to go!"

Fox's voice played over the comm channels. "Alright, everyone. Let's meet up inside the Great Fox, it's time!"

The three spaceward voyagers all reconvened inside what was left of the main ship. Small greetings and high-fives took place as this was the first time they had been in physical contact with one another since their initial assault on the Aparoids. After the warmness had died down everyone was gathered in front of a single monitor and was awaiting the final button press.

"Well, go on, Fox," Falco said, jabbing him in his side. "Let's put this place in our rearview."

He looked to the computer then back to the group. "Slippy, this wouldn't have come together without you. You should be the one to do it."

The frog held up his hands defensively. "But it was your idea to combine all our ships into one. I just made a few blueprints. I mean who'd a thought of using an entire ship as a single thruster? That's like something out of science-fiction!"

"It was my idea that you applied. So, we'll do it together." Fox said.

With a satisfactory nod, the two boys walked to the front of the computer both placing a finger on the "enter" key. They exchanged hopeful glances and on a count to three, both pressed the button. There was an uncomfortable pause before the screen powered on. Now filled with an antiquated term-link font, the screen displayed the thrust levels and positions of the different arwings.

Fox: (U): 0% (-/+)

Slippy: (L): 0% (-/+)

Falco: (R): 0% (-/+)

Krystal: (D): 0% (-/+)

All: 0% (-/+)

The team shared a rejoiced sigh. It appeared as though everything was finally in order. All that was left was to adjust the thrust of all the ships at once. Slippy clicked on the plus symbol next to the row labled "All" and raised it to 100%. Upon doing so, he could hear the whirring sounds of the arwings' engines come to life. In a matter of seconds, they would leave this place and the aparoids behind for good... or so they thought.

[End of Chapter]


	4. Chapter 4

- **Chapter 4-**

With the newly repaired Great Fox running at optimal capacity, well as optimal as a jury-rigged ship could, the immediate threat had passed. The Star Fox team was now soaring across the cosmos with roughly four times the thrust that any one of their ships could muster. Their once 17-day trip would now be completed in a mere three and a half, accounting for the new load the arwings now had to move. Of this journey, the team had survived 75 hours of continuous flight. The crew had managed to sustain themselves off the tasteless food and water that was in the arwing's emergency ration kit. And much like the foods current state, spirits had begun to grow stale. Three days without a proper bed coupled with their newly imposed stagnancy had taken its toll on everyone aboard.

Falco stirred awake from the uncomfortable sleeping position he had somehow managed in one of the chairs in the fuselage. It was one of the two rooms that survived the strife with the aparoids. The second room that survived the battle was the storage bay or lower deck as some called it. It was a small room which held a bunch of miscellaneous spare parts, tools, and other such oddities. While it had proved invaluable during the building of the holding rig that held the arwings in place behind the Great Fox, it was too cramped to be of further use to the team. As such, this room had become the team's main place to live and sleep for the past three days, an idea that is far less comfortable than it sounds.

The bird sluggishly tried to stand on his feet, an act that was greeted with a shooting pain that ran down his entire spine. It was strange, he felt like he should have been used to this feeling by now.

He let out a carelessly loud yawn as he dragged his feet across the smooth metal floor. While doing so, Falco looked around the cabin to see if he had woken any of the others. Slippy sat off in the corner with his face buried in ROB's lap. Poor guy must have fallen asleep while trying to figure out what was wrong with the robot. Krystal somehow looked relatively comfortable curled up in a sung ball on the floor. Whereas Peppy looked like he might drown in the puddle of drool that accrued on the desk he was resting his head on.

Falco's eyes then wavered across the room to catch the faint glow at the other end. There, at the head of the ship, stood Fox wide awake. From where Falco stood he could only make out Fox's silhouette backlit by the bluish haze of the monitor. His stance was rigid and unweaving, almost as if the computer locked him into a staring contest.

"Mornin', Fox," Falco said cracking his neck back into position.

Fox did not reply. He appeared to be too involved whatever he was doing.

"Figures. We're out in the middle of literally nowhere and still, you somehow manage to find work. So, spill, what's with the ehhh… screens and all?"

"…Making sure we don't crash, for one." He responded in a flat and unengaging fashion. "Until we know the extent of ROB's damages there's no way I'm letting him fly. Also, someone's gotta make sure that distress signal is still broadcasting."

"Wait, we're still doing that? I mean we're like what, five hours away? A cry for help seems like a waste of time if you ask me?"

"Well, I didn't," mumbled Fox coarsely.

Falco ignored this and proceeded to speak at bit louder. "It's like paintin' a big 'please come rob us' sign on our ship. I mean if we weren't so close then maybe it'd make sense. But five hours, that ain't—"

"First of all, it's nine! We're nine hours out!" He barked whipping around from the monitor. "Secondly, it's a miracle we're even flying in the first place! So yes, Falco, I'm taking precautions! Because if I'm not watching this monitor we could get hit or crash or something could break or… or"

And as quickly as it had sprung up, Falco watched as Fox's temper slowly left his face and was replaced by a rather sheepish expression. He looked like he wanted to say something else but stopped short. Instead, he let out a forlorn sigh and turned back to face the computer.

Falco shot him a sideways glance. Fox had never been one to just suddenly go off the rails like that. Everything they had been through had clearly taken its toll on him. Come to think of it had he even gotten any sleep? Falco was pretty sure he had seen Fox at this terminal when he went to bed last night. Here was a guy who clearly needed a break. But Falco knew how stubborn Fox was; he'd only rest once the mission was finished.

"Look, Falco," he said, still completely focused on keeping the Great Fox on course, "I'm sorry, that was—"

"No, don't," the bird answered walking behind the monitor. "You're tired, I get it. Thankfully, your good buddy Falco has just the thing." This was accompanied by a comical amount of crashes and clangs emanating from behind the monitor.

"Oh, please, Falco. I'm not in the mood." Fox raised a mournful hand to rub his tired face.

"Shut up."

It wasn't long before the sound of all their vital supplies being haplessly tossed about ended and Falco returned. In his once empty hands now sat two glass bottles containing an over saturated purple liquid in them. They made a high-pitched clank as Falco slammed one of the bottles on Fox's desk. Written on the bottle's label was the word, "FLUX" in an overly eccentric script.

"Wait, is this alcohol?" Fox inquired, picking up the bottle in front of him.

Falco gave a confirmatory hum as he twisted the top of his own bottle and knocked it against Fox's.

"Cheers." He said tilting the bottle upwards and downing his beverage.

"Yeah, drinking and flying, that sounds like a bad combination." Fox chided setting the bottle back down on the desk.

"Come on, man," Falco jeered, snatching the discarded bottle off the table. " _Dislodge_ that stick of yours for half a second and kickback?" The loud pop and subsequent fizz the bottle made seemed to accentuate his point. Falco forcibly shoved the bottle back into Fox's hand and clanked it against his own drink. "It's only hard soda anyway. You could drink a dozen and still not feel a thing."

"Well, explains the color," Fox said. Finally caving to the bird's logic, he tipped his bottle and took a meager sip. The berry flavored liquid felt almost revitalizing as it slid down his throat, bubbling the whole way. At the very least, it certainly left a better taste than those dry rations they had been eating.

"So, how'd you get ahold of this stuff?" The vulpine asked turning away from the monitor to face Falco. "I know we didn't store anything like that up here."

"I had a cooler down in the lower deck."

"In the storage bay?"

"Yeah, I had bought us all a little something for when we'd finished blasting those bugs. I actually meant to move it in the fridge but kinda forgot." He did a quick double take as it dawned on him. "Huh, that's kinda amazing… seeing how we don't have a fridge anymore."

"These past few days have been a lot of things, Falco," sighed Fox, taking a second sip, "But 'amazing' is not one of those things."

Falco could feel the mood dropping faster than a downed plane.

"Wow. I bet I could shoot a flare down your throat and you still wouldn't lighten up," He laughed. "Don't worry, that'll change once were back home."

Fox cocked his head, curious to see where Falco was going with this. "Oh yeah, is that so?"

"Mm-hm, just think, we've saved the galaxy three… two times now!" He said counting the instances on his fingers. "You know that means statues and a parade in our honor."

For a moment, Fox let himself slip into the dream Falco had conjured up. While the idea of a party was nice, he knew that nothing like that would be waiting for them. Although, just the thought of getting into a hot bath and eating something fresh would be enough for him. If nothing else, it was nice to feel the light at the end of this tunnel.

Just as Fox begun to take another sip of his drink, he felt the whole cabin jolt. The two adventures faltered for half a second before they both regained their balance. Caught up in a moment of relaxation, Fox had forgotten that he was the one piloting the Great Fox, a task the was normally carried out by the now defunct ROB. Thankfully, whatever they hit had caused no apparent damage to the ship.

"Oh, for crying out loud," grumbled Fox, as he looked down at the purple stain that had splattered across his vest.

"Man, purple on white. Now _that's_ a bad combo."

"Does anything else feel like going wrong today?" sighed Fox. "Could you watch these for a bit? I'm gonna find something to clean this off with." He moved away from the table and began walking to the door at the rear-end of the room.

"You headed to the lower deck?"

"Where else would I go?"

Falco walked over to him and placed his arm on Fox's shoulder. His voice lowered so that it was barely audible. "I stumbled across one of Slippy's comic books down there. Bet they'd make for great paper towels."

"You found his comics?" Fox answered, in a completely unhushed fashion. "Why didn't you tell him? He'd be ecstatic."

"Well, turns out, they also make for great toilet paper too."

Fox stared at the bird like a judge preparing to sentence a heinous criminal.

"You're a _real_ charmer, Falco."

"Means a lot comin' from the guy with the booze stain on his shirt." He fired back with a cocky smirk.

"Just steer the ship and stay out of trouble, okay?"

"Come on, look who ya talking to."

It was an answer that hadn't exactly left the vulpine with much confidence. Still, Fox slowly made his way out of the room. The doors automatically shutting behind him with acute precision.

Now that their leader had officially left the room, Falco now took his self-proclaimed position as second in command. He dutifully turned his attention to the monitor Fox had been watching. It took him a bit to get used to the program Slippy had created to control the arwings thrust. Everything was now based on percentages. If he wanted to make the ship bare right then he'd have to lower the thrust level of the left-most arwing so that the right one would apply more force. It was like trying to paddle a kayak but with purely numerical imputes.

On the second monitor, he could see a screen that resembled that of a GPS inside of a car. The screen displayed their approach vector to Katina and even listed an ETA in the lower right-hand corner. Only, eight hours and twenty-one minutes left. He could not wait for those numbers to hit zero. In a different part of that same display was the distress beacon Fox had set-up.

A distress beacon functions just as one might think it would. Any spacecraft within the beacons radius will be alerted in some form or another to the signal. Usually, this will be accompanied by a short message that will play out across the receiving ships main screen. This allows for effective aid to be given by ships that are able to help. For instance, if a highly stocked resource transport was getting robbed, any civilian ships that received the distress signal would know to steer clear of that area. Whereas military ships would know to respond to the call.

Falco read the message Fox had written in case their call was picked up. "Star Fox Team experiencing multiple technical failures. Low on food, water, and supplies. Help if you can."

It was the "Star Fox Team" bit that worried Falco the most.

He was sure Fox meant it as an appeal to ethos; they had saved the galaxy enough times to earn a few cans of food. But the name Star Fox had also gotten a bad reputation for those with less than spotless records. If any one of those types saw their ship sending off a distress signal they'd be done for. Seeing as how they were on the outer reaches of Laylatian space only this possibility all the more likely.

Something like this was surely going to get them all killed. Falco tapped through the windows of the distress beacon. It took him a minute to navigate the operating system but he was eventually greeted with the message: _Administrative Access Required! Please enter your password below._

"Seriously?" Falco said, throwing up his hands in protest. "How freaking paranoid can you get?"

The avian member of the crew put a hand to his chin. He knew it was Fox's idea to have the beacon up in the first place so that meant it was probably him who set-up the password.

"Now, if I was an egotistical tightwad what would my password be?" He thought, engaging his fingers atop the keyboard. He quickly, entered in the phrase FOXROCKS only to have the computer spit back _Password is Incorrect._ Determined to crack this code Falco keyed a few others he had in mind: JAMES, TEAMWORK, FRIENDSHIP, I3KRYSTAL, FALCOISCOOLERTHANME, and FALCOISDUMB, the last of which caused the computer to process the answer before displaying the same _Password is Incorrect_ screen.

"Oh it better be!" He muttered priming his hands for the next set of code words.

"What are you doing?"

The voice had hit Falco like a dodgeball to the back of the head. His initial fear quickly abated when he recognized it as the high-pitched chirp of the team's engineer. Thankfully, it was only him. The avian wasn't sure how he'd explain the situation if it was Fox who caught him like this.

"Don't creep up on me like that, Tadpole!" Falco turned around to face the frog.

"I wasn't creeping; I've been standing here a while," Slippy said, looking at the computer behind the bird. "That's the screen for the distress signal. You were gonna turn it off after Fox just finished explaining why we need it, weren't you?"

"No, I wasn't. I just wanted to change our message a little bit… wait, how'd you know what he said. We-Were you listening in on us?" Upon realizing this fact, Falco felt the cold sweat begin to return. Had Slippy heard him giving Fox the go ahead to use his comics as paper towels… Or worse.

"Wait, how much did you hear?"

"I don't know, mostly Fox yelling at you," he answered confused by the question. "You guys weren't really being quiet."

"And you only got up now?"

"Because Fox was yelling at you." He said in a slow and obvious tone.

Falco felt a wave of relief wash over him. It seemed like he'd missed that part entirely. "Well seeing as how you're awake; why don't you help me with this password?"

Slippy stopped and thought about his teammate's request for a few moments. But he eventually agreed.

"Just let me see all the changes you make before you save anything."

"Deal, Froggy."

Falco moved away from the monitor and watched as Slippy took his place. The frog clicked on the text field of the Password window and proceeded to type G-U-E-S-T on the keys. The screen flashed and went directly to display the functionality of their distress call.

"Guest… Our password is seriously guest?'" Falco asked, very disappointed.

"There's like five of us here there's no reason to make it complica—"

Slippy never did finish that sentence or at least Falco had not heard him do so. Their conversation had been interrupted by a sound. It wasn't an unusual sound either. In fact, they had heard it play thousands of times before. However, hearing it now at this particular moment made the blaring noise carry a whole new meaning. Appearing on the screen in similar alarming red font were the words "DISTRESS BEACON RECEIVED! MESSAGE INCOMING!" The sound piercingly echoed throughout the cabin causing both Krystal and Peppy to shoot up from their respective sleeping positions. Moments later, the doors to the storage bay opened up.

"Four minutes, Falco" called Fox rushing over to the control panel, "You couldn't keep things running smooth for four minutes!?"

"Is that us!?" the vixen asked joining the other three. "What's wrong!?"

"No," Slippy answered, curiously staring at the screen. "Looks like we picked up someone else's signal."

"Wonder if they've got it worse than us?" Falco thought aloud, seeming unfazed by the whole thing.

It didn't take long for Falco's question to be answered. The five crewmates huddled around the screen. All of them watched with intent gazes as the message began to scroll across the display. Although, what they saw was hardly a message. All that appeared was a single word and yet there was no other word that could have had a greater impact on the five warriors. It was a word that by all logic and reasoning, should not have been there.

"That's… That's not possible," stammered Slippy in complete shock.

"Not like it's a typo," grumbled Falco crossing his arms tightly.

Krystal turned to Fox placing a concerned hand on his shoulder. "Fox, what are we going to do?"

There was a time where Fox would find himself staring at these screens for hours. His reliance on them to guide the team home safely was so great it bordered on idolism. He knew that if they were to break or have an internal malfunction that it might just be the end for the Star Fox Team. Yet, in spite of this dependence he had on the screens, right now he wanted nothing more than to punch a hole right through the center of it.

Fox looked back to Krystal. "We do everything we can."

He then fixated back on the monitors to read the word _APAROID_ one last time.

[End of Chapter]

 **A/N: Sorry about the hiatus there. This chapter was longer than usual and went through A LOT of revisions before I could be somewhat happy with it. I've also edited my whacky grammar issues in the last three chapters so hopefully those should be better too. Thank you all so much for reading and stay hyped for Chapter 5!**


	5. Chapter 5

**-Chapter 5-**

Falco's arms shot forward, his hands gripping either side of Fox's vest. "You gotta be kidding me, Fox!" he yelled directly in his leader's face. "First, you said it's a miracle were flying and now you expect us to go out and fight?! Have you totally lost it?"

"This isn't up for discussion," Fox said coldly. "Now. Let. Go. Falco."

The two stood at the center of the fuselage. The three other teammates surrounded them like onlookers of a Colosseum. Fox and Falco locked eyes for several extremely tense seconds before Falco released Fox, shoving him as he did so.

"You are such a hypocrite!" The Bird huffed walking to the outside of the circle. "It ain't fair for us to risk our lives every time your conscious needs a boost!"

Fox pushed off against the wall Falco had flung him at. He could feel his anger bubbling into a single, fixed point inside him. It felt like a time-bomb on a hair-trigger. He opened his mouth ready to let the bird have it but, to his own surprise, he was beaten to the punch.

"For god's sake, Falco!" Krystal said, calling him out. "You've been nothing but antagonistic this entire trip. Do you really think you're making this situation any better?"

"Yes!" He answered, exasperated. "Us flying out there like we are now is crazy! But Fox is too caught up trying to play hero! We don't even know the signal is real! Someone probably just left it on after the war!"

"W-well, if that was true, we wouldn't be hearing the distress signal just now," Slippy said anxiously checking the computer. "We've been in their radius for a while now."

"Still doesn't make us obligated to help them!" rebutted Falco.

Slippy turned his attention back toward the group. "I mean he does have a point. This is really reckless, guys."

"Slippy!" Krystal shouted exchanging a surprised glance with Fox.

The frog recoiled out of fear. "I mean, I want to help people too. But given the situation, I just feel like we're under prepared."

Falco looked just as shocked as Krystal to see Slippy take his side. Despite the shock, however, Falco was ready to ride this momentum forward and went back on the offensive.

"See, even Slippy agrees with me! All we have to do is not answer their call. We'll just blast right passed and _no one_ will even know!"

"That's _not_ how we do things, Falco!" Fox yelled. "When someone is in trouble, we help! Bottom line!"

"He's right!" The vixen agreed. "Both of you need to stop being so completely self-centered."

"No, it's not like that," Slippy began ashamedly. "It's just self-preserva—"

"Oh my gosh, Krystal!" The Bird yelled, speaking over Slippy entirely. "Do you _ever_ have an original thought or do you just go around paralleling whatever _he_ says?" Falco finished, pointing a finger at Fox.

She shot him a glare that could freeze an ocean, "now you're just trying to be hurtful."

"You _just_ called me selfish," Falco laughed, not believing what he was hearing, "you freakin' blue b–"

"EVERYONE QUIET!" Peppy yelled, instantly halting the four-way deadlock in its tracks. The rabbit slowly took the center stage as the eyes of his crewmates fell on him.

He felt his throat seize up as a wheezy cough escaped his mouth. "Gosh, think I blew out my voice on that one. Slip, could ya get me water?"

"Yes, sir," Slippy answered, dutifully running over to their supply of rations.

"Thank you," Peppy said, taking hold of the canteen. The Rabbit drank slowly, seeming to only draw out the uncomfortable silence that now hung between the rest of the crew. No one was sure if he had planned it this way, but the pause had allowed for tempers to settled to a light simmer before Peppy began speaking again.

"Y'all take a good look at yourself." He scolded, "You're not kids anymore. When something goes wrong, you can't go throwing a temper tantrum like this. I mean really." The rabbit doled out a scornful look to everyone that stood around him.

"Now, ya'll need to take a minute, apologize, and _get ahold_ of yourselves." Peppy stood there for a second longer, ensuring that his words really sank in. He then caught Fox's eye and motioned for him to follow.

Fox wasn't sure what the hare vare wanted with him but not going wasn't really an option at this point. He gave one last look around the room to see the agitated and dissatisfied looks of his teammates before he left the circle. Together, the two of them made their way to the doors at the back end of the cabin, leaving the rest of the team to stew in a contemplative hush.

He heard the whoosh of air as doors snapped shut behind them. They were now stood at the top of the stairwell that led to the lower deck. It was a cramped space the was devoid of any windows or natural light sources as was evident from the hum of the fluorescent lighting. The vulpine leaned his back on the cool metal of the closed doors they had just walked through, He watched Peppy do the same against the railing of the stairs close by.

"Fox," began Peppy. "What happened back there? You lost your temper. That's not like you."

"I-don't… did I?" Fox stammered, caught off guard by the question.

The Rabbit nodded. "I saw your face back there. If Krystal hadn't stepped in when she did…"

"Things would have gotten worse." He admitted, his ears fell slightly.

Once again, Peppy nodded. "So, what's eating you?"

Fox thought about it and slowly made his way over to Peppy's side of the room, leaning against the same railing. He looked down at his hands, looked at the way his fingers were now interlaced with each other. He looked down at them and felt a strange sense of powerlessness.

"Peppy, I don't know what to do anymore. I'm tired." The words carried a sort of breathless quality as they left his lips. It was like trying to speak after having almost drowned. "I'm tired of the war, I'm tired having to deal with problem after problem, my head hurts, my body's sore and I just feel like I can't deal with everything right now." He took a second to think about the distress call that was awaiting them back up front. "We don't even have time to be talking about this right now."

"Just hold on a moment. Don't rush off now." Peppy said gently grabbing Fox's side. He caught a reluctant glance from Fox but eventually, he settled back against the railing.

"So, if you're really feeling that way, Fox, then why do you want to help these people out? It sounds like that would only make things worse for you."

The question struck Fox as rather odd. The way Peppy had said it sounded like he was judging him for wanting to help someone.

"The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few... and I'm just one person. If we're able to help someone we have to make the effort."

Peppy processed Fox's words for a second. He knew how hard Fox tries to constantly be on top of everything. To be a hero to everyone. But even titanium can only handle so much pressure before it bends.

"I think I remember James saying something just like that." The Hare rubbed Fox's shoulder with a fatherly like tenderness, "He always put his needs second to those around him. A real selfless type a guy."

Fox looked over to Peppy with a distant gaze and waited for him to continue.

"Back then, I didn't think much of it. Just figured it was how he did things. But then…" Pappy trailed off and decided not to finish that sentence. "I learned something from him. Fox, helping others is great but not easy. It can weigh on you especially in cases like ours where you don't always see an immediate change. That can wear on a person, can bring you to a point lower than those that need your help. And when that happens…"

"You can't be a hero for anyone." Fox finished.

"Exactly. And right now, I see you running yourself into the ground. You're tired Fox, you need a rest. Just let this one go."

"Peppy, there are people out there who could need our help. I can't just leave them."

"I got a look at the map earlier. The calls coming from well within the range of the Cornerian Military; Someone will help them, Fox. I promise."

Fox shook his head. He was reluctant to Peppy's reasoning, not entirely convinced that abandoning a distress call was somehow the right thing to do. But thankfully it was an easy situation to remove himself from. The other ship had no way of knowing that the Great Fox had even received their call. As such, Fox could simply stay to their course completely unabated.

"W-would you think any less of me for leaving them?" Fox asked Peppy, his head unwaveringly aimed at the ground. He could felt the rabbit's hand squeeze his sholder tight with reassurance.

"Of course not. Fox, I am so proud of you. I could nev—" Peppy stopped mid sentence. He had been cut-off by the sound of the fuselage's doors opening again. Both him and Fox could see Slippy standing in the doorway. There was something odd about the engineer. He looked almost like he was about to freeze to death with the way he had his arms tightly crossed over his fists. His face, however, told a different story, caught somewhere between worry and shame.

"Uh, sorry to interrupt," he spoke despondently. "But Fox, we need you up front."

The two exchanged worried glances, wondering what had happened to cause Slippy to become so depressed. Rather than wasting time talking to him about it, they made their way back into the Fuselage. The room appeared to be the same as when they left it. Fox was relieved to see both Krystal and Falco standing unharmed on opposite sides of the room. However, they were both staring at something now. Fox followed their gazes to the main computer. It was the same screen that had once displayed their map and distress signal. However, the screen now showed a picture of a man dressed in a Cornerian Captain's uniform. In the upper right-hand portion of the screen, the vulpine could read the words _Incoming Video_.

"Is that…" Fox said in disbelief.

"Yeah," Slippy answered in a dry voice. "That's the captain of the ship in distress. He called us just after you left."

"Why did we answer?" Fox said, a cold wave of anxiety washing over him as the reality of the situation began to sink in.

Slippy's eyes remained downcast at the floor. "In the event the crew becomes incapacitated, any ship broadcasting an emergency signal will auto-answer all incoming calls. In this case, we were that ship. When they called, we picked up automatically."

Falco looked over his shoulder and motioned his head for them to come up and join them.

"And here he is now," Falco said concluding his conversation with the canine on the screen. "Fox, the floor is yours."

Fox, Peppy, and Slippy all made their way between Falco and Krystal at the front of the ship. Fox, however, took a single step forward towards the monitor. He stood as tall as he could manage and folded his arms behind his back in a charismatic fashion. The monitor felt like it was bigger than normal, even though it already filled most of the wall. Fox looked at the man's image, he appeared to be about Peppy's age with short, gray fur and faded black down his muzzle. Whoever this was Fox was sure he'd never seen him before.

"Oh, thank the stars," The man's voice was imbued with a sense of relief. "I am so glad we finally got in contact with someone."

"Likewise," Fox said evenly. "I'm Fox McCloud of the Star F—"

"Yes, of the Star Fox Team." The canine finished. The man's face looked thankful beyond words. "You don't know how much it meant to all of us to see the words "Star Fox Team" scroll across our monitors… even if it was in a distress call."

Both Falco and Slippy could feel their insides churn slightly. It was now made clear that this ship had only found them because of the Star Fox Team's distress beacon. Unknown to them, at this moment, the same thought echoed through their heads: _If I had just had two more seconds to change our distress call…_

"My name is Gallagher, Captain Gallagher Mastiff." The man on the screen continued. "I fly the civilian transport ship, Domum for Corneria. My entire ship and crew will be—" The image blurred briefly as his ship shook from impact. "…will be forfeit. I ask, no I plead for you to help us!"

"Captain Mastiff," Fox spoke quickly, knowing time was precious. "Your crew, how many people are on board?"

A look of dread crossed the canine's face. "As I mentioned, we are a transport vessel, we are currently holding roughly 400 civilians and 100 crew members."

Fox thought back to what Peppy said. _Just let this one go_. In his mind, he could still feel the warmness of the rabbit's hand. _Just let this one go._ Even just looking at the glow of the screen was hard on his sore, tired eyes. However, seeing this man's face, hearing his voice, knowing that five hundred people's lives were at risk. Fox knew one thing, he could not let this one go!

"Everyone!" Fox called. "To the arwings! We got a ship to save!"

[End of Chapter]

* * *

 **A/N: I am very sorry about the late update. Much like our hero, my plate has been a pretty full lately. I would love to get some more feedback from any of my readers out there. I hope the pacing isn't bothering anyone as I don't want this to seem like a super boring story where nothing ever happens. But if it feels like that then just let me know and I'll try harder next chapter. My life is super organized right now and I want to try for weekly updates. I love you all and thanks for reading my stuff. Laaaaaaaaaaters!**


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